The Winged Mage
by TheAspiringWriter93
Summary: Added a little more to it, but still unsure what I want to happen in the way of events of the story. I already have some of the plot mapped out (where she's going to go), but I still have much to do, so any suggestions will help out a lot! Thanks for reading! XD


PLEASE LEAVE COMMENTS OR REVIEWS! I CANNOT THINK OF A GOOD CONFLICT FOR THE CHARACTER! ALL HELP IS APPRECIATED GREATLY!

The rain came down in sheets as I trudged through the mud to the large, wooden gates of a small town. I was doubled over as I walked; my back seemed large and misshapen under my dirty, brown cloak. I carried little; just a couple of small bags and a staff with a large orb fixated on the top end. Dark, thick trees surrounded the path which I trod, making it that much more difficult to see. Under the face mask and hood I wore, I could barely make out the fires of a torch some distance ahead. I let out a long, weary sigh; how I wished I could rest my tired feet…

I approached the torch, which sat in a ring bolted to the wall above the guardsman, who would have like nothing better to do than to sit inside his home near the fire and get warm. The guardsman noticed me and slowly got to his feet, hand near his sword in case of trouble. He wasn't quite elderly, though his beard and head did have sprinkles of salt here and there and his face had the look of a warrior who had seen too many battles. He wore leather bracers on his wrists, boots of light iron and iron chest armor over his clothes, which were all the worse for wear.

"Wait just a moment," he said to me. I stopped and held up my hands in a sign of peace, driving the dirty end of my staff into the mud and taking a step away from it to prove my point. He did the same, drawing his sword and laying it against the wall.

"Who are you, and how did you come to be out so late on a night like this?" he inquired. I slowly stepped forward, hands still raised, until I was close enough to reach for his hand. Slowly, carefully, I reached for his right hand, brought it up, and crossed it with two gold coins, more than necessary, but I just wanted to get to an inn. He looked at the coins, then at me. "Who I am isn't important now. I need food and rest, for I have been traveling a long time," I said loud enough for him to hear, but soft enough that he wouldn't hear the sound of my voice. I couldn't take risks, even in such a remote area as this.

He nodded and opened the small door behind him, allowing me inside. I retrieved my staff from the muddy earth and thanked the guard on my way past.

After a moments' direction from the guard, I found myself standing in front of the inn he had mentioned. It wasn't anything stately; a one-story inn with a stable for horses.

Taking in detail after detail, as I was trained to do, I stamped my muddy boots on the wooden porch, cleaning them as best I could to be polite, and walked inside.

The inn may have been drab-looking from the outside, but inside was something completely different. I had never seen a more homely looking inn; patrons were sitting at long, wooden tables laughing and eating and joking amongst themselves and with the innkeeper and his wife. The innkeeper's son was busy sweeping, but he, too, was enjoying the company of the people nearest him. Everyone seemed to have a smile on their face, which in turn made me smile. It was a pleasant reminder of how this world could be, instead of how it actually is.

The innkeeper noticed me and made his way through the throes of people to assist me.

"Looking for a room?" he said, laughter still in his voice. I nodded and paid him five gold coins for the room and another ten for a table and food. I needed to keep a better eye on my money; with my charitable nature, I would run out before I could get more.

Through my cloak, I tapped the man on the shoulder and motioned for him to lend me his ear. He bent down and listened as I whispered, "You have such a nice place here. It's rare to see so many happy people in one place, especially during these times. You must love your work." He laughed and said as he guided me to my table, "Oh, there are good times and bad times, as with anything. I just choose to keep the bad times outside my door and at bay with laughter!" He chuckled as I sat and I could feel my grin widen slightly. "I'll be right back with your food. Tonight's special is smoked lamb with baked potatoes and the best mead this side of Riverdon." I stopped him before he left and said, "No mead, please. Water, if you can spare any." He nodded and left, once again roaring with laughter.

As I waited, I took in my surroundings. The room I was in had wooden walls and stone flooring. A small chandelier hung from the ceiling, the candles burning on them were half melted, but burning brightly. The tables were polished and well kept, as were the chairs on which we all sat. The bar was made of stone with the same polished wooden surface. Even from here, I could see the ring marks from tankards and mugs that sat for too long on the wood. There were various shelves around the room which held various things; books, tools, spare tankards and dishes were among the items I observed. The two long tables were set on either side of an equally long fire pit in the center of the room, which added a nice touch to the whole effect. Overall, the entire establishment seemed to have a very home-like quality, one that the patrons in the inn and even the other residents seemed to love and admire.

The innkeeper came back with the food, and with a wink, set a letter on the table.

"This is from the gentleman in the corner. Seems to have taken a fancy to you, he has. Although, I'd be a mite careful; he doesn't seem like the trustworthy type to me." I nodded, eying the corner he indicated. There sat a man at a lone table wearing a large cloak over steel-plated armor. His hair was wet with the rain, which could only mean he'd been here no longer than me. His face looked young, yet wise at the same time, like he knew things that no one else knew about. At his hip hung a dagger; on his chair hung a steel sword and an engraved shield. He had large, blue eyes that read me; bore into me like he could speak to me through them.

"Can you tell me who he is?" I asked quietly. The innkeeper shook his head.

"Don't know much about him, only that he just arrived not fifteen minutes before you. He seems like he's in the Imperial Army, but that armor doesn't look like anything they hand out at the Capitol. If you plan on dealing with him, I urge you to keep caution about you. There's no telling what a man like him is capable of," and with that, he left to help another customer. No name, no history, not even a smidgen of a detail about this man. That could only mean one thing; he was an Assassin sent by the Empire. How did they find me here? I only knew that I couldn't stay; I had to get out of here as discreetly as possible.

I shot the Assassin one last look before casting my gaze elsewhere. Finally, after a moment, I found what I was looking for. Silently, I got up and made my way to a man at one of the long tables. Words exchanged, palms crossed with gold and I had a distraction to use at will.

"Don't do anything until I sit back down. It can't look to conspicuous." I whispered to the man.

"Gotcha. Say, what did you do to warrant all the secrecy? Is someone after you?" Another coin silenced the questions. Slowly, I made my way back to my seat, and after a moments' hesitation to make sure the man saw me, I sat down. Moments later, the man stood up in a drunken fit and started singing very loudly, urging all the patrons to join in with him. This was my chance to escape; there would be no other opportunity. I left my seat and made my way to the door as quickly as I could without arousing suspicion. Just as I placed my hand on the doorknob, the Assassin was next to me, hand on my wrist.

Bless his soul, the man I paid rushed over, still drunk, wrapped one smelly arm around the Assassin and dragged him over to the group of singers, allowing me to escape.

Once outside, I made my way to the back of the inn, where eyes would not follow, and entered the woods. Once out of earshot, I took off the cloak I wore and stood straight, revealing my biggest worry. I spread my large, black wings wide, stretching sore muscles and tendons and readying myself for takeoff. No sooner had I stooped to leap into the air then a guard saw me. He advanced on me, drawing his sword. I had only seconds to escape. With practiced grace, I jumped, beating down hard with my wings, lifting my slight frame into the air with difficulty. As I rose, I cursed myself for flying in the rain, but I had no other choice.


End file.
